2008-01-25 - Sunny Explosions (Mina Blows Up) - Part I
--Folsk and Kiyoshi Visit The Zoo!-- Coruscant: Retreat of the Jedi Knights - Courtyard Within these clean white walls, the chaos of the City seems to disappear. The airspace above is completely clear of traffic, and the cacophony of aircars and speeders cannot seem to penetrate the heavy stonework all around. By day the clear blue sky shines down between the frame of the walls, and by night the brilliant stars of the Core are complimented by innumerable points of light drifting lazily through the sky: starships high in orbit. Most of the courtyard is covered with a verdant green grass, speckled here and there with white star-shaped flowers; this plantlife grows freely across the untrimmed lawn. A road of the same clean white stone as the walls meanders across this lawn like a creek, spilling into wider 'ponds' of circular landing pads placed here and there seemingly at random. In the center of the lawn, a wide tower stands slightly higher than the walls, crowned with a simple dome. Similar towers stand at each corner of the walls. The feline slows and stops. He stands up and sighs deeply that ends in a loud snuffle. His bright yellow eyes, contrasted against the sleek blackness of his fur, are lifted skyward for a moment and then close. His ears tilted upward as if listening to something directly above him. After a moment of this, the muzzle turns downward toward the smaller being gathering around him. Another sigh followed by an deep intake of breath. A pause... "Masterrr Viarrrde is dead." He speaks slowly and tries to make his words form in the closest approximation of a Coruscanti accent so that no one will misunderstand them. After he speaks, his liquid saffron orbs are cast to the verdant lawn beneath their feet. His ears fold back and he is silent again as the others take in his monumental statement. Watching the Tikar, blue eyes narrow. There is a wordless moment where is breath catches and Frrash speaks. A weight suddenly crashes down upon the Knight and he shakes his head, "You, you are certain of this?" He questions, his voice rather soft and urgent. Obi-wan then steps forward again, "Where, when?" It is as if he is trying to confirm something, his body tensing. Tuil looks surprised first and foremost, but then the shock of this statement sets in and he asks again, "She is dead, Frrash? You have seen this with your own eyes?" The Jedi's calm reserve looks to be for the moment set aside in favor of disbelief. The soft strings continue to play throughout the recitation of the news. The song of the bow against the strings deepens, alternating with higher notes and only the briefest pauses. Meanwhile, the musician brings the plucking of strings into harmony with the bow's lamentations for the dead. Graham is close enough to the others that he can see and hear the reactions but he doesn't hear the news which causes this. The padawan only speaks. "Who is that you speak of?" he asks concern in his voice but he prepares for the news. Stone silence from the furred sentinel towering in the ever increasing sea of sentients milling near to hear the news. After another short pause pregnant with sorrow and the impending doom that only detail can bring to such a horrific and heart-breaking event. His head lifts again and he speaks to the most senior Jedi in his eyes, Knight Tuil Lindo, his teacher and companion. He speaks, again slowly and with purpose. "Frrrash leave Narrr Shaddaa. As fly away to hyperrrjump place, find battle. Frrrash see ship explode. In Forrrce, feel many die. Verrry sad. But also feel something morrre. Feel Forrrce..." he pauses as if looking for the right word in Basic, "shake. Then Frrrash see Mina. Feel one with Forrrce. Frrrash verrry close. Know in hearrrt." Grim, and dreary, as bass and alto voices now sing in unison to the alternations of the bow and strings. A chant almost, the lyrics sung with a clinging sadness, the high voices rising into a soft crescendo as the news is once again repeated, while the low voices boom in harmony, a mournful dirge. Obi-wan looks to Graham with Frrash's confirmation. There is trouble in his eyes and he shakes his head, "One of the Masters Padawan...she is dead." It is said with an eerie calm as he turns then, moving away from the others, a couple of steps taken towards the gateway. Obi-wan folds his hands slowly into the sleeves of his cloak, his gaze searching the ground of the courtyard. His head tilts, attention drawn elsewhere as he turns about. Blue eyes study, search. Keen notes are clear upon the air, wending their way towards him. He begins to move in their direction. There have been days that start off sunny, bright-- then are shattered by roaring winds and lashing rains of a hell-storm. It would seem that this is one of those days, even if the glittering light of the Jedi Retreat is bountiful. The storm does not come in the form of the Force, nor is it in the form of actual weather. No. It comes on charred boots, and shredded, burned robes. It comes with the fearsom approach she has earned. It comes in the form of, Mina. "A rift in the Force was created, yea-- by me," she affirms, smoothly-- her gait pained, her voice hoarse. "For I wrapped it about myself with such strength that I am not, indeed, dead." A calm descends on the Jedi Master, even if pain creases her mien and causes her brows to dip. "Frrash is correct in what he felt," she states, now at Obi-Wan's side. A ghost? No. It is, indeed, Mina Vairde. Kiyoshi Mikawa sits atop the white stone wall, moving a bow of wood and fine hair across the strings of the instrument held in his lap. His alternate hand plucks at a second set of strings in ones and twos, producing the delicate harmony of his lamentation. The togruta's brown eyes watch the approach of the Jedi, and also the arrival of Mina Vairde, but he plays on. Kiyoshi Mikawa slips out of hiding. Kiyoshi is not the only one to make his perch atop the white stone wall. A brown-furred Bothan sits beside the Togruta, humming pleasantly along with the dismal voices that play on a sound recorder. Tuil turns then to follow Obi-Wan and the ethereal form of Mina Vairde towards those who have invaded the serenity of the retreat and he stands taller suddenly, his grief put aside for the moment as he confronts this new threat. "Have you returned for the good doctor or is this a pleasure call?" He smirks then and adds, "Or perhaps a return engagement?" Even with the rustle of cloth at first, Obi-wan does not turn, his gaze lifting to the musician. But as the Master speaks, the shroud keeping her from him, he can not help but turn swiftly. "Mina..' He says rather freely, his icy eyes warming at her arrival. He looks her over, that worry returning and concern stealing the words from his mouth. The Knight can only look upon her in disbelief, the Master having cheated death by mere hairs it seems. He can't seem to process anything, he merely looks upon her and relief claims its place upon his shoulders. Kiyoshi Mikawa smiles down at the Jedi and answers over his music, "Lamentation, or so we thought." He nods at Mina Vairde, "We saw her ship go down under a hail of fire from the enemy battleship." His fingers continue to glide over the instrument as he draws the song to a close. The brown-furred Bothan hums on, though unfortunately for his obvious pleasure at the dirge, the song eventually comes to a close. "Oh, is the show over?" Folsk perks, apparently blissfully unaware of Tuil's confrontation as he glances to Kiyoshi. He smiles brightly as his attention is eventually seized by the not-so-dead Mina, "Oh. Quite. We thought it a wonderful opportunity for some music! The galaxy seems in such lacking for good music." "Purely a light engagement, Lindo," Mina mutters, good-humour springing up in the place where wrath went before it. As the Tikar speaks to her, she smiles brightly-- her eyes intently upon him, communicating beyond the words she is able to speak in Frrash's native tongue. A tender touch is laid upon black fur, before Mina's eyes fleet to Obi-Wan. She looks upon the coppery-haired Knight, chuckling softly with the faintest of blushes. The Bothan, and his Togruta counterpart, earn a curious dip of Vairde's golden, albeit messy, head-- a tilt then. "The show is over, alas," chimes the Master, watching the pair upon the wall-- emerald eyes paying them no further heed. "We have work to do, Knights and Padawans alike-- Yoda approaches after he fulfills an engagement of his own," the woman murmurs, softly. "Be ready to receive orders to that effect. No longer will what happened to my innocent crew, go unchecked." Graham remains quiet and moves along with the rest of the order. He knows he is relitively new but wishes to help in any way possible. The padawan continues to listen in only for a moment. Bozlo's silent contemplation of the events now transpiring in the Retreat comes to an end. With the aid of his makeshift staff, he urges his frail and wounded body forward -- each step a newly bloomed wince upon his face. The two self-styled musicians upon the wall do get a quick glance, but the young padawan's attention seems to be summoned in its entirety towards the living Mina Vairde. Obi-wan smiles upon her, nodding his head to the Master. "It is good to have you back from the dead, Master Vairde." His voice holds a warmth and there is another breath drawn that sends a more reassured look to his stance. "We are ready for Master's return, Knight Lindo and I were speaking of it earlier..of things we need to discuss. And now that you are not dead, it seems that we will have you to discuss it with to." His gaze trails to the strangers upon the wall, studying them openly. But it is the click of Bozlo's cane that makes him turn, "You, you need to rest.." Tuil frowns at this apparent indifference as he looks from Kenobi to Vairde and all those others who seem drawn to the Jedi master. Quietly to the other knight and Mina, he asks urgently, "Are we going to let these interlopers remain upon our wall and mock us with their playing?" Kiyoshi Mikawa sets his bow aside and applauds the Master's speech, "Well said, and I do wish you the best of luck against your enemies." He smiles down at Tuil as he packs his instrument back in its wooden case, "Mock you? Is it not your custom to play a dirge for the honored dead? I'm afraid we had to cheat a bit on the vocals but I didnt think you would cooperate if asked." Eyes close briefly, then open-- looking on Obi-Wan with a seriousness. "What has happened?" the woman asks, a high-pitch to her voice, this day far too traumatic for Mina as it is. A glance is lost to the wall, its folk, and then to Tuil. "Do we have reason to shutter off the Retreat from sentients that seek its solice, Lindo? I do not believe they mock, but, are rather misinformed." A step is taken toward the fountain, but a wince is evident on a pained countenance-- perhaps the Master has some injuries that yet throb beneath her outward form. Attention finds Bozlo then, Kaia's Padawan and she looks pleased. "I am glad to see you up and around, Bozlo," Vairde entones, softly. "Graham," she greets, before urgent eyes of golden-flecked green find Kenobi once more. "Where is my Padawan?" she asks, grimly... "Cheat?" The Bothan asks, feigning indignance. "My dear Togruta, it is quite unlikely that it is my fault to be born without proper vocals!" He fingers the sound recorder lovingly, "It took a long while to find the appropriate song, you know." He turns back to the collection of Jedi below them, clearing his throat, "Anyway.." Graham nods his head at his name being spoken. "Master, it is good to see you and well." a small smile crosses over his face, but he knows this is dire at the news of action being taken and moves to remove it from his face. The face that turns to meet Obi-Wan is defiant, clearly uninterested in formality or rank. "Orin..." Bozlo says, a near gasp. One hand is again placed over the red bandage that covers his chest and his glare becomes both the result of his pain as much as his resolve. "Aure... Orin attacked. Master Kaia is missing. Orin might have... her." He pants, reaching with both arms for his staff. His gaze slides over to the two fiddlers on the wall. "Kidnappers... Xibril." He growls, apparently annoyed by his inability to speak properly. Calming himself down, he turns eyes that are no longer even ignited by the spark of decision or rebelliousness back to the Jedi Mistress. They are pleading eyes, filled with all manner of unvoiced questions and requests. With a simple touch of finality, he states: "I don't know where she is." Obi-wan tenses slightly but he dips his head, following after Mina slowly. Eyes flit back to the two performers, assessing slowly before he nods. Obi-wan carries a new heaviness to his step and as his cloak flares in his wake, his clean shaven chin lifts. The Master's slow assessment of those present gains his own scanning attention. A softly drawn breath keeps the Knight's words at bay first, but his own stark gaze is given to Bozlo. "This is not good, a Knight and padawan missing." His brows furrow and he gazes to Mina. "Your Padawan...she went with ..a man of mismatched eyes and many coloured hair. I tried to stop them." He lifts his hands. "Jana sent me away...she refused to come with me." While this talking and relaying of news continues, Tuil watches the two beings on the wall with great attention. His hands are folded in the sleeves of his robe and he seems inclined to meditate, though his dark gaze is unwavering. Dark times. Tuil is met with Mina's gaze first, before it flits to the wall. "Is there anything the Jedi can help you with?" she asks, placidly-- a measure of pain in her form, perhaps making it sound harsher than she means it to. To Bozlo, her attention goes next. She listens, intently. "Aure Kaia came with me, to Nar Shaddaa. She was assiting Gean in his detainment, so I do not fear for her. You should not either," she murmurs, a comforting tone. "You need to rest, Bozlo. Will this information help with that?" Obi-Wan rips all attention from the others, Mina's eyes closing softly as an expression of pain so great upon her, sets in. "I knew of her plan, but I did not know..." the golden-haired woman whispers, looking away. Hands move to cover her soot-smattered face, both palms there as Mina rubs at her eyes. Her voice raises then, even if a weighted worry hangs over the head of the Jedi Master. "You have your orders from me," she says, emotionless. "If you seek to remain the Guardians of what we protect with our lives, perhaps you will follow them. I cannot force you, but perhaps you will understand: lives -must- be saved." Glancing to Obi, Mina's eyes remain there a moment before she turns slowly, ambling towards the Gateway without another word. Kiyoshi Mikawa attaches the instrument case to his belt, "My voice is poor as well so I cant fault you." He smiles down at the Jedi, "At least the scenery is interesting. It reminds me of the school where I learned my letters and played tag as a cub." "Just enjoying the view." Folsk says pleasantly, black eyes wandering more or less in an idle observation of the nearly serene courtyard. Bozlo seems visibly calmer as Mina speaks. It is only then that he allows himself the luxury of experiencing some manner of peace. "They tried to take Xirbil," he manages to tell Obi Wan now that his respiration is not affected by anxiety. "Those two." He nods towards the wall. "Knight Tuil, my Master and I were all there." Tuil pulls out his comlink as it buzzes and he listens, his face looking even more shocked than when Mina appeared. COMSYS: (single channel) Tuil says, "Where are you?!" As Mina moves to depart, the Knight's eyes widen, he starts after her and then stops. "Mina.." He says below his breath and he draws a deep breath. The copper haired Jedi watches her go, gaze narrowing once more before he rubs at his cheek and then neck, turning slowly back around. The Knight becomes more reserved, nodding to Bozlo before gazing upward at the two on the wall. "Xibril? Why would you seek Xibril..?" His brows furrow and he turns to gaze at Tuil strangely. Tuil looks at Kenobi and shakes his head. "Why? Because he created the damned things and knows their secrets. But I must go. Farewell." The Jedi then turns and starts to run for the gateway. Kiyoshi Mikawa drops from the wall and lands in a crouch. He calls up to his companion as he rises, "It seems they are apt to hold grudges, so we'd better move along." The Togruta stretches his arms and begins walking towards the gate. Dead_Mina heads north through the gateway. Dead_Mina has left. Tuil heads north through the gateway. Tuil has left. "It's been a pleasure, Jedi." The brown-furred Bothan pipes up, dipping his head in courtesy to all those present. "I was just about to say." Folsk turns to Kiyoshi, abruptly hopping off the side of the clean, white wall. He walks lazily for the gateway. An arched brow rises higher, wrinkles creasing Obi-wan's brow. "Well..." He gazes at the assorted padawans as first Master Vairde, the Knight Lindo take their leave. "There is much that the Order is not sharing amongst themselves." He says, but eyes the other two upon the wall. "So what do you know of this?" He asks, slowly moving towards them. "Dr Xibril that is?" The Knight folds his arms across his chest. Bozlo does not care about the two on the wall. He does not even seem to care about Mina, Tuil, Obi-Wan or anyone else. That his concerns have been put to rest, he seems worried only about the gaping wound that spreads across his chest. Once again using the branch as a staff, he starts making his way towards the tower. "Time keeps churning, unfortunately. A chat for another day." Folsk says, dismissive of the subject, throwing his shoulders in a helpless shrug. The Bothan continues to head for the gateway. Kiyoshi Mikawa answers over his shoulder as he walks toward the gate, "Knowledge is relative. You were content that we were simple trespassers until your companion spoke, and now your mind has imprisoned you by means of curiosity. What changed between the two moments?" He smiles and "Because he apparently is a threat, gentlemen. A threat that has all the answers. Is that why you so seek him?" The Knight is brazen to continue, shifting upon his booted feet, stilling his steps to allow them their distance. "It seems a curiousity that you would be here, as well as in the same place that Xibril was. Forgive me for noticing the coincidence." His head tilts and he studies them. "The more one knows, the more one asks. It seems the lot of life -- knowledge. A dangerous thing." Folsk says mildly, one hand held wide as he replies over his shoulder. "I believe we have stayed long enough, until the next we meet. It is a small galaxy afterall." (Walk and Follow Mina) Category:January 2008 RP Logs